


Not Your Fair-weather Love

by Phoebsfan



Series: Conflicted [2]
Category: Alias (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-01-20
Updated: 2003-01-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:01:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24900484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoebsfan/pseuds/Phoebsfan
Summary: Sequel to ConflictedThe truth wants to be found. It doesn't like hiding behind masks. It doesn't like lurking in corners.
Relationships: Jack Bristow/Irina Derevko
Series: Conflicted [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1801798
Kudos: 1





	Not Your Fair-weather Love

_**"Oh no, I see, a spider web is tangled up with me. And I lost my head. The thought of all the stupid things I said.** _

_**Oh no what's this? A spiderweb, and I'm caught in the middle. So I turned to run, the thought of all the stupid things I've done.** _

_**I never meant to cause you trouble. And I never meant to do you wrong. And I, well if I ever cause you trouble. Oh no, I never meant to do you harm.** _

_**Oh no, I see, a spider web and it's me in the middle. So I twist and turn. Here am I in my little bubble.** _

_**Singing, I never meant to cause you trouble, I never meant to do you wrong. And I, well if I ever caused you trouble. Oh no, I never meant to do you harm.** _

_**They spun a web for me. They spun a web for me. They spun a web for me..." Coldplay-Trouble** _

"Who was Laura?"

It was a fair question, even if it was one I was far from ready to answer. Laura was a multitude of things. She was the embodiment of everything I'd ever dreamed of being. Yet she was far from ideal. She was a paradox, loyal to everyone but herself, loyal to no one at the same time. Laura was confusion, she was pain. And yet she was the only time I was ever truly happy.

Laura was a weak excuse. A mask. But to Jack she was more real than I ever would be. Unfortunately Jack would never see me as more then a Russian spy in Laura clothing. He would forever choose to believe that I stole his wife away from him. Because he couldn't live with the fact that he had loved me.

It was easier to love the lie, the half truth. The second skin I'd created for him.

The funny thing about lies...most of them, most of the successful ones anyway, are rooted in truth. They are distorted versions of their former selves. But when the search for truth is thrust in their faces, most crumple. The truth wants to be found. It doesn't like hiding behind masks. It doesn't like lurking in corners.

If Jack had questioned me back then... there were times when I would have told him everything. I wanted so badly for him to clean my skin of Laura's stench. I wanted him to see me. But how did you explain that to the man who wanted nothing to do with you.

Who only stuck around because you carried his dead wife's face.

I gave him the only answer I knew...

"The only person I was ever truly jealous of. The only person I ever wanted to be... Your wife... And for awhile... She was me."

Chapter One

She was skin on skin. She was ache and need. Losing control and finding sanity. But she was only an illusion.

No...she was my wife and apparently she was the woman standing across from me.

Oh I can compartmentalize everything else...but this...I don't even know where to start with this.

I stopped seeing Laura in her face awhile ago. I realized that Laura was no longer alive, never had been alive. I only saw her for the manipulative Russian bitch that she was.

She was the enemy.

But my body remembered her touch, my tongue remembered her taste, and my skin savored the softness of her surface.

The woman who stood across from me... She was like me in so many ways. If I wanted to I could understand every word from her soft lips. I could tease anything I wanted out of her by touching those lips with mine. I knew I had control over her in some twisted aspect of the word. I could exact any revenge I wanted.

But the sight of her made me sick.

And I refused to believe it was because I could see myself in her.

There was no excuse for the things she had done. Yet I knew that I would never have the strength to be in her place. To come back to the ones she had betrayed.... To look her target's son in the eyes....

How many men had I killed for my country... for my cover?

Yes, I could be in her place had things been different.

Maybe that's why hating her came so naturally.

Her words, her admission of guilt, of need... they didn't fall on deaf ears. She knew better then that. I would know better. Strike where they can be swayed. And she picked a hell of a topic to sway me with.

To be fair though....not that she deserves fairness...I brought the topic up.

Because the sight of her muscular frame...the taste of her skin on my finger tips... Even thinking about it makes me anxious with desire. I needed something to drug myself on. Or maybe I was already drugged and that's how my curiosity came out into the open.

It would be much easier to hate her if I didn't know her motives. If I didn't know just how real it had been for her as well.

Still I didn't know how to go about fixing any bridges. I didn't know if I even wanted to fix them. But a voice in my head kept saying that she would never leave me hurting like I had just hurt her. Not when she had the power to stop it.

He stood mute. His body screaming out every non verbal in the book.

I knew him to well not too know what was going on in his head. God I loved that man's head. I've yet to meet a man with such genius. The conversations we'd had in the past.... I may have missed them more then the excellent sex.

I wanted to make his decision easy. To forget where we were and take him in me. Make him remember just how well we fit together. So many arguments of the past had ended with passionate touches and exploding moans of pleasure.

But it would solve nothing this time. Only flame back into life those small embers, the ones that had taken years to die down. I was afraid that this time, that fire would burn uncontrollable and scar everyone in it's path. Because this time there were no lies to hide behind. This time every truth would be laid bare.

We'd truly own each other. Completely.

And neither one of us was ready to give each other such a gift. We were each others worst enemy.

That didn't mean I didn't want to relieve him of the unbearable tension building between us however.

"Why did you come here?" I asked instead.

"I haven't yet." he threw back with those eyes that were drinking me in. God the man was unbearable, that look was always my undoing, forget any sexual reference he wanted to throw out. He could ask me to suck him dry and I would.

Instead I barely contained the whimper that so inconveniently wanted to betray my thoughts. I went from heartbroken to hot in record time. Yeah, he still had it. I wanted to scream out all the dirty things he could do to me to make me pay for my crimes.

"I don't know why I'm here." He smiled as I tried to contain myself. Oh such a big man. I'm glad he was enjoying the torture. Bastard.

"You wanted answers....I'm just full of answers." I offer with a smirk. Yeah, see how much he enjoys the game. "Question is... How would you like to get them out of me?"

It was his turn to blink and swallow back his lust.

"Don't tempt me." It was stern and he was trying to hide again.

"Why Jack? You know you'd like to hurt me. So why don't you just stop hesitating and get it over with?"

I found my body pressed once more against the glass wall, pinned between him and it. His breath coming in uneven puffs by my ear.

"You'd like that wouldn't you. You'd like me to fuck you senseless. In here, with all these cameras. It would be a good way to get me out of the picture. I think you enjoy being an exhibitionist." His tongue traced a path from my ear to my collarbone then back up.

"God Jack..." I twist and puff. "Exhibitionist is the least I'd be for you. " I answer rubbing against the leg that has slipped between mine.

Screw everything....well maybe not everything.....just him.

His hands circle my throat. Pressing in just slightly, making breathing difficult but not impossible.

"I could kill you now." he offered calmly.

"Do it Jack. Please. Kill me." Her face betrays that pain. The one that she and I seem to share.

Her words.... They've been mine a thousand times over.

I lessen my grip on her neck, caress it with my thumbs and kiss the tears from her face.

"If we kill each other will we finally be even. Will we finally be able to look each other in the eye and say what we really feel?" I must really be drunk. Because those words should not have come out of my mouth.

"Jack....Let go. I'm not worth it. Let me die in that river. I'm not who you think I am." she whispers, pleading into my eyes. Unfortunately I know that speech. I know it all to well. I could have written it for her.

Why is it that she is even more desirable now than she was as Laura?

"Irina...." he tastes my name. It sounds so erotic the way it tumbles off of his tongue. He smiles. God, I hope he's not agreeing with me....but then again I hope that he is. I want him to think my name tastes as erotic as his does.

"Irina..." He squeezes me to him. I'm guessing he likes my name by the way he intentionally draws it out.

"Unfortunately, I think I'm finally beginning to see who you are...and..." God help me, he is not starting to fall in love with me.

No....I can't take that too.

"Jack..." His name is velvet. And his hands. And his mouth.

I don't deserve the things he can do with his tongue as it plunges into my mouth.

Air! My lungs scream at me. Jack! I scream back at them. They can be so foolish at times. Really who needs air when Jack Bristow is kissing you. Is sucking on your bottom lip... Is making you moan and squirm against his very distracting erection...

Is...oh god that feels good....

"Don't ever stop..." He removes his mouth from my now damp shirt, lets my very attentive nipple twist from his teeth.

"Yes...Irina..." It's like he can't stop using my name now that he has started. "Was there something you wanted to tell me...Irina.." Bastard...I should do something to remove that smirk from his adorable face.

"Cameras. Be logical Jack." God knows I can't be at this moment. Because even as I tell him no, I find myself sucking on his neck and sliding my hand down his pants. Fingers finding their reward. Curling and uncurling around him as he gasps out.

"God...Irina...if you don’t' stop that I'm going to take you now. Screw the cameras."

"Wouldn't you rather screw me?" I ask giving him another squeeze. Cupping my ass, he pulls me closer.

"What I'd like to do with you is much more then screwing. But you're right. It will have to wait." He pulls away and leaves one last searing kiss on my swollen lips before locking himself out.

God, am I grateful for that glass.

Jack Bristow wants me.

I can't hide the smile that bubbles inside of me.

Chapter 2

The concrete was course and gritty on my back, his hands bit into my arms, his breath mingled with mine as he pressed himself against me. Gunfire peppered the moment and he swung out from behind the crates we were using for cover to fire another round.

I love missions and if they don't make Jack look ten times....god...with gun cocked and ready and that look of intensity in his eyes. He used to look at me like that in the middle of sex. He'd get that determined look on his face right before he made me lose control.

So it's no secret that I take the moment to mentally run over his assets again. I should be more focused on the mission at hand but his ass is currently more interesting, the way his jaw is set and his eyes locked ahead of him as he gently squeezes the trigger. His arms straight out and strong. I can mentally picture the muscles working under his jacket. Sweat pools at his temples and it's all I can do to resist the urge to lick it from him.

Damn...who's brilliant idea was this mission anyway.

"I'm out." He announces as he pulls back against the wall next to me.

I don't need an invitation to work off some of my frustrations. Each gunman becomes a camera in my lovely glass home. The enemy, my past, the barriers between us.

I don't think I've ever been as accurate in my life.

I keep shooting into the darkness and he places a hand around my wrist. He has the gall to smile.

"Come on. I think you've taken care of them."

Yeah, I have haven't I. Too bad I have done nothing to the warmth in the pit of my stomach, which his tightened grip is just making worse.

I yank my arm away from him and run toward the exit at the end of the hall.

Whoever decided that my wife needed to wear that sexy backless top with those leather pants needs to be castrated. They really leave nothing to the imagination the way they squeeze her thighs. It was like a second fucking skin on her. As if keeping my hands to myself was such an easy task before. Hell, the woman was in prison garb and I practically molested her.

Kendall has one sick sense of humor.

The hours before he showed his face were bad enough. Not only did I have to keep my hands off of her but I found myself fighting the urge to keep other people's hands to themselves as well.

I found myself fighting the urge to throw my jacket over her.

On the other hand, seeing Irina in full blow spy mode is sexy as hell. The cool exterior, the way her body moves so smoothly and gracefully through the motions. Only years of practice could produce such a picture perfect product.

Adrenaline.

That's all it was really. The only reason I was having a hard time not doing things that shouldn't even be named.

"Jack! Let's go!" Irina whispered harshly from the end of the hall. Turns out I hadn't followed her. Someone would be facing hell when we get back. I've never been so distracted on a mission. Not even Kashmir had this effect on me. Of course Irina actually wore clothes there and even then there were moments when...

"JACK! NOW!" Shit. My internal dialogue cost us valuable time. We barely reached a bike before they blew our asses off.

I should probably explain how Jack and I got halfway across the world speeding down the road on a motorbike. It's the usual really, Rambaldi this, Rambaldi that. The Rambaldi trail the CIA is on is not going to be very productive but if it gets me out of my cage I'm not complaining.

Jack was a rich investor, I was his "girlfriend." I use the term loosely because as we all know those people don't keep any thing that doesn't pay off big in the end. They are careful with what they invest in. And things with legal bindings or anything approaching commitment is shunned. So technically my cover was as Jack's whore. Which wasn't really all that bad of a deal. I mean it's not every day I get to make out with my husband because of my job...Hell I never get to make out with my husband. And true a few kisses and lingering touches aren't really considered making out in my book but this Russian bitch will take what she can get.

I plan to tell Jack that he sucked at his cover. After all, the only reason he kept me was to fuck me. I was still deciding how exactly to word it when the hand that was resting on my waist slipped down to my thigh.

Maybe I'd see where this went before I chastised him for a lousy job at his cover. I mean he could be making up for his slip up. Then I could politely tell him that this behavior was more believable. For next time.

The human body is a truly beautiful thing. In my years in espionage I've seen the human body in various positions, in various degrees of dress and undress, in the most humiliating and excruciating moments of life. Or death. But there has never been a particular body able to effect mine as much as Irina Derevko.

She's driving the bike. Typical really. She has issues with control.

Laura did too now that I think about it.

But Laura was never this mysterious to me, never so forbidden. Irina added that extra level of complication, which really wrecked havoc on me. And Laura would never wear something like this.

Pulling back I watch her shoulder blades shift as she rearranges her grip on the handlebars. Each ripple of flesh begging for attention. Her arms were turning red from the chill of the wind. Each hair standing up, causing her skin to stick up in little goose bumps. Cute, sexy, little goosebumps.

Her hair was up, but a small strand at the nape of her neck had come loose and it blew by my cheek as I studied the curvature of her neck.

She was somewhere else, in perfect control of every aspect at the same time. I had the intense desire to make her shiver, loose control for just a moment.

I wanted to make her crack.

Plus her thighs where just too hard to keep my hands off of for very much longer.

She veered just a little bit when I squeezed her thigh. And damn if that didn't make things a lot warmer.

She deserved a lot more then the torture I had in store, I smiled.

Jack Bristow is brilliant.

From my thigh, his hand traced itself up and down my upper arm. Finally coming down my back and resting on my hip. I'd resigned myself to that being all I was going to get. So his lips on my neck produced a small uncontrolled gasp.

He chuckled.

"Bastard." I muttered.

With the wind and noise I don't know how he caught it, other then the fact that his ear was so close to my mouth when he was nibbling on my jaw. Unless he'd gotten really good at interpreting the vibrations of my neck.

"Bitch." he replied and continued to suck on my earlobe.

Damn him.

I wasn't going to make it so easy on him. Moving my head away from his attentive mouth I moved forward on the seat and concentrated on my driving. Ha, take that Jack.

His lips moved on the back of my shoulder. His hands stopped playing with the skin on the sides of my lower stomach.

I figured he had given up when his lips left my back.

Which is why I almost killed us both when that clever right hand of his slipped so seductively subtly down in front of me where it cupped itself around my crotch. His left hand, also a very clever hand, had made its way up to my left breast, the soft material warmed under his convincing fondling. Using both hands he pulled me back. As his erection hit my lower back it was nice to know he was suffering as well.

"Pull over." he commanded in my ear, eating his way down my neck to my shoulder as his hand massaged my breast.

"No..." I'd be lying if I said that I didn't come off as moaning.

I had to be in her.

She had to surround me and block out everything else.

She had to know what it was like to be with me. I wanted Irina, I didn't want her pretending to be someone else anymore. I wanted to be with her, the woman I married but never had the chance to meet.

No, I needed her. Or a good long cold shower...which didn't look possible in the near future. Too bad, she'd just have to do. Not that I was complaining.

"Irina. Pull over." I urge, grinding into her back and letting my hands slide down her arms and land on the handlebars next to hers.

She pretended to ignore me. How cute. Actually, I was finding it far from cute.

"Now. This isn't a game anymore." I decided that she needed more reminding so my hands slid back up and lock around her forearms as I devoured her neck. Licking its sweetness from her warm skin. Sucking and biting, trying to get more and more of her.

After what seems like an eternity, she pulled over.

I jumped off quickly and before she could contemplate movement I grabbed her around the waist and forced her to the ground next to us.

"Ouch. God Jack, be careful."

"If you'd done like I'd asked maybe I'd feel bad about that."

"Oh I see how it is. Jack wants to be in charge so I have to just drop everything so Jack can stick his dick inside of me and get off. How sweet." She was feeding a flame, she knew it and was definitely enjoying it.

The pure raw lust in his eyes would have driven anyone over the edge.

"Woman, if you don't shut up and spread your legs now I'll do it for you." I laughed. He always said the dumbest things when he needed some. He always had been rather idiotic in his conversational skills when he was frustrated. After he got off he was the sweetest, gentlest man I'd ever met.

He fumbled with his pants so I sat up and pushed his hands away. He wasn't going to be anywhere near where he wanted to be with that kind of energy, he could do serious damage.

"Calm down Jack. It's going to happen but not until you get control of yourself." I whispered as I took him into my hands. I'd missed this. Stroking him, feeling him hard and eager for me.

I knew what I want to do. But I don't know if he'd let me.

She was right. Her purred words reminded me that I really didn't want to force her into anything.

But I almost lose it in her hands when she touches me. I watch her eye me as she pets me. Her black fingernails dance across me and I have a hard time containing myself so to speak.

Then her eyes are looking into mine again and everything else disappears.

I love her.

I am hopelessly gone.

Irina Derevko owns my soul.

I nod and she smiles, leans in and takes me in her mouth.

I can't stop a fucked up tear or two from escaping.

My hands are lost in her hair and I can't--or maybe don't, stop one of those deceitful bastard tears from hitting her.

He tried to pretend he wasn't crying, but when his tear hit me, I felt it so much deeper.

It's about time he realized that no matter what happened we would always be connected. I cried too. I cried and wished he was there to kiss away my tears and hold me.

I met his eyes and let him slide from my mouth. I give him a minute before I come to my feet and kiss him fiercely.

I only hope he feels the passion, hurt, love, anguish. I hope he knows he has my heart even as I have his. I hope he realizes that fighting is futile. No matter how much he fights me he is only fighting himself.

I brush at his cheeks, rest my forehead against his chest. We stand together. Finally.

We sink to our knees and kiss more fully then we have before.

He sees me. He sees us.

As his calloused hands clutch at my back and my painted nails dig into his back, he knows.

Everything is laid bare and he is still here.

I sob with joy and he does kiss away my tears.

"Irina...." I nod and he unfastens my pants.

And half clothed, pants around our ankles in a field half way around the world, my husband slowly enters me for the first time in almost thirty years.

It's slow and gentle.

Tender.

His movements are grace personified, his touch like a whisper over my heated skin.

Our sweat and tears and fluids mix as we truly for one moment in time cease to exist independently.

How I feel can not be put into nicely formed sentences. It can not be contained in written or spoken word. So I do not speak and he does not either. Each caress contains more affection then a million pet names could. His look, so concentrated, so intense, as if he sees right through to my core, says more then then the ten years we had together could contain.

We are openly sobbing in front of each other as our pleasure erupts.

Gasping and trembling, unable to control the tears and pain that he has broken loose. The regret and guilt once more overwhelming me. I do not deserve him. I can't live without him but I do not deserve him.

And then his arms are around me, holding him to me as his kisses my hair and murmurs in my ear.

Consoling words. Words of comfort. Pointless meaningless murmurs.

Oh what I'd give for those three little words. Make it four. I want four. I'm greedy, I don't want those three words unless they are preceded or followed by my name.

She shakes uncontrollably. Her pain inconsolable and I feel so helpless.

I can't imagine living with her guilt. I have my own to deal with yes, but she has no one to turn to. The people she loves are the people she hurt.

And so she shakes and sobs and acts like a real woman.

It scares me. This goddess.... She isn't impenetrable or immune. She's human, she bleeds like the rest of us. And I don't know what to do to comfort her.

The words I want to say but can't ever mutter, would hurt her more.

This must end.

We have too much control over each other. There is too much on the line.

But I don't know how to go on now that I have been with her, now that I have seen so much of her.

What do you say to the woman who broke you time and time again. The mother of your child. The only person you ever let see you emotionally naked. The one who showed you everything inside of her. I am certain she never let anyone in this far before.

I know because we are far too much alike.

I know because there are was no room for lies in that amazing moment when we became one soul.

I just know.

It doesn't matter what you should say. Only what was said.

"Come on Jack. We can't stay here." And then she pulls away, discretely clothes herself and starts toward the bike.

Sometimes I wish I could be the first to pull away from her.

Chapter 3

I let him drive the bike to our extraction point. I'm too distracted by our foolishness. Trying desperately to reestablish the wall that tumbled down somewhere along the way.

The reality is I will go back to my cage and he will go back to his life.

He will remember to hate me tomorrow. And I will remember his touch, it will burn me for the next twenty years. It is only what I deserve.

Maybe I will change the conditions. Maybe I will demand to be moved to Langley. Maybe I will remove the temptation for both of us.

I don't regret tonight, I only regret that it had to happen. That it was inevitable and that it will only bring us more pain.

We were always fated to be each other's down fall. I've believed that for years now. It's just that I sometimes wish we could be each other's salvation instead.

But this is not a movie. It can not have a happy ending. And even if it was....I was his enemy. And in the grand scheme of good versus evil.... I would lose anyway.

God it's cold out tonight.

She is silent next to me on the plane. I want to be inside of her mind. I want to know what she is thinking. If she regrets what happened in a field by the side of the road. I want her to talk to me. To say something...anything.

I can't bear that I have hurt her. I know that I have. I can see it in her actions.

Why did she have to be the one person I couldn't stay away from?

Logic tells me that to pursue this any further will just cause unnecessary pain. But the only thing I want right now is to gather her still form in my arms and whisper over and over again how much she moved me tonight. How scared I was that she'd leave me again. How much I wanted her, needed her.

For some reason this woman makes me want to open up to her. She makes me want to lay my soul in front of her. Even when I know she will only trample on it

She stares out the window.

And so I decide to ask her a question that has been on my mind a lot lately, a question that has nothing to do with tonight. Maybe then she will forget and I can pretend to forget as well.

"Why Rambaldi?"

I knew it was only a matter of time before the silence between us would be broken, but still I was not ready for it. He deserves something however. He just has a knack of picking harder questions then I'd like to answer.

"Because Jack... If you had a prophecy written about you, wouldn't you want to know as much as you could about it?" I give him only part of the reason Rambaldi has been such an obsession for me.

"I suppose." he looks thoughtful. But he doesn't buy it all. I can tell by the crinkle in his forehead. I'm glad we are alone in the back of the plane. I don't want anyone else to know about this.

"Jack.... What do you know about Rambaldi's theories on eternal life?" I ask, looking at his hand resting so close to mine.

"Not much really. Just that supposedly he knew how to create it. Is that what you're looking for? Eternal life?" I sigh.

I used to be looking for that yes. That and anything else I could find on the man who seemed to know so much about me.

"No. I'll admit that it was tempting at first. To live forever and never have to worry about death. To have time to atone for your sins. To be with the ones you love and have a million and one chances at making things right." I give him a small smile. Then look down at his hand again. I want him to grab mine, I can't make the first move though. I don't know why I can't. But I can't.

He doesn't move his hand either, so I continue.

"I'd like to find him Jack. Rambaldi. I think that he really did succeed at the eternal life thing. And I want to know what his fascination was with me. Why he seemed to think that I was going to ruin the world or whatever he thought? It's a lot to carry around. I'm only surprised the CIA hasn't had anyone in to question me about that particular prophecy." I feel so tired and it would be nice to rest my head against his shoulder.

I can't though.

Those walls are currently being built again and any physical contact with him would tear them down. Rebuilding takes energy and I don't have enough in me to try to rebuild again today.

"You think he's alive still? How did you know about the prophecy, I thought the CIA had the only copy?"

"Yes Jack. I think he would be foolish enough to test his theory on himself. I've read so much by the man, I think he might have started to lose his grip on reality. As for the prophecy... There have been allusions to it in some of the texts that I had obtained. And before my operative in the CIA was removed I got wind of the exact wording and such. It was quite a blow to learn that I was the destroyer that he'd been going on about all those years."

"Haladki." At his whispered word I look out the window again. I don't know whether I'm trying to be cruel or honest. But I add the next bit anyway.

"Yes Jack. Haladki. I knew his mother. And his family. He was married with two kids. They live just outside of London. A little girl named Anna and a boy... Jack."

"Haladki was married?"

It came out more forcefully then I'd expected. The woman was brutal when she was honest.

I already knew we were the same. She didn't have to rub that fact in.

The fact that some little boy sat by the window and waited for his father to come home every night. The fact that little Jack will grow up hating the man who killed his father.

Was Vaughn's father just another Haladki to her?

It put things in a new perspective.

One that I didn't like to look at. Because either way it was painful. She was either more innocent then I wanted to paint her at times. Or I was just as evil.

Somehow though, now that knowledge didn't hurt as much as it would have before.

"I'm sorry." I whisper and grab the hand that has been resting beside me, so long untouched. It's so small and deceptive. I never would have guessed how stained it was before.

"I know. But it doesn't make things better for them does it?" She offers me a sad smile. I hate that she's right about that.

The plane, as expected grows silent again. I knew that he wouldn't have any words after I'd told him. What do you say to what I'd said.

You could go back to the topic before hand, but then Rambaldi is obviously not a good topic either. My thoughts on the matter do not sound entirely sane. I know, I've had the discussion with many colleagues.

Had them laugh in my face about it as well.

There is really no one who can understand what it's like to be in my position. I need Rambaldi to be alive. I need to know why he has me pegged as the destroyer of the free world. It keeps me up at night.

I'm glad that Jack still has enough trust in me not to shackle me for the ride back. Happier still that he's still holding my hand. It's comforting. The knowledge that someone doesn't see you as entirely evil. After tonight I know that he doesn't.

My head bobs, I'm fighting sleep because I don't want another one of those dreams to come. I don't like the idea of Jack seeing me sleep. Especially when my nights have been so plagued recently. I don't want to talk about the night terrors that seem to have settled on me.

But I'm so tired I can't keep my eyes open. I'm honestly surprised I lasted so long. Good sex always puts me to sleep. I smile to myself as I remember his expression and caresses. Yes, it was definitely good sex.

Jack chuckles beside me.

"It was wasn't it? Go to sleep Irina." He reads my mind. I used to hate how he could do that. Right now I don't mind so much. He places his hand on my head and guides my head to his shoulder. "Go to sleep." he repeats.

And the last thing I remember is his thumb brushing over my hand lightly as he kissed the top of my head.

She's beautiful in her sleep. I remember nights when I would stay up after we'd made love, just to watch her sleep. She was always so much more peaceful after making love. The difference was easily observed in her sleep.

I liked to think that I made her sleep easier. I'm not sure if that's true or not. But if the way she is dozing next to me is any indicator I think I can say that it must be.

I've watched her sleep on the monitors that record her movements in her glass home. She doesn't sleep easy, or much. She tossed and turned and called out.

And lately it's been hard not to go in to her cell and wake her up. Hold her in my arms and tell her it's going to be ok. Because I don't know if it is or not. I don't know what has her up at nights. Pacing back and forth like she's going mad.

At times you would swear she's crazy.

I brush the hair from her forehead.

I know she isn't though. I know what it's like to be locked up in one of those cells. I know what it does to a mind like hers. I know how insane it makes a person.

I wish I could take her away from that.

I wish a lot of things. But... Well we know how it's going to turn out.

She'll go back to her cage and I'll go back to my bed alone. I wish I had one night by her side.

I should have known that tonight's actions would lead to an unquenchable thirst.

Maybe I did know.

But there isn't anything I can do about it now.


End file.
